Free Ghosts of Koa, The First Book of Ezekiel by Colby R Rice Page B

her, just a hint of a twinkle returning to her blue eyes. And just as always, whatever anger or sadness consumed Zeika's heart melted away. She placed a hand on Manja's head and forced a smile.
    "Okay, we'll get you some more. What are you in the mood for, kiddo? We've got some hamburger, fries, a couple of moo moos..."
    "May I have the chicken club, please?" She had been eyeing it the entire time.
    "Right on. You know I made all of this myself, right?"
    "No you didn't!" Manja giggled. "Your food's yucky!"  
    Zeika smiled and rolled her eyes. "Way to make your big sister feel like a champion."  
    She had barely pushed the chicken sandwich up to Manja before she snatched it up and started eating like a barbarian. Zeika filled two glasses, one with cold water and one warm with salt, and put both of them down for her. A quick rummage back through the medical kit and their fridge produced a crude icepack for Manja.
    We have to get to Guild Five.
    Zeika clenched her jaw, unsettled by the thought. She hadn't planned on swinging by there for at least another week, but in Manja's condition, they had no choice. Her right knee had already begun to swell. It wouldn't be long before the left knee followed.
    She looked at Manja, who had put her sandwich down. The bite marks in the bread were pinked with splotches of blood. Zeika forced her eyes closed, the decision cemented. They didn't have a choice.
    She took the holstered field knife out of her bag, and for a long time, she gazed at it.
    More dangerous to be without it , she decided finally, and she jammed it into the sash around her waist. She started towards the tail of their hut, to grab some last few things-- and practically slid to a stop as a tall body stepped out of the shadows.  
    The body didn't belong to her mother. It belonged to a man... and it wasn't her father either.
    Zeika snatched her field knife from its holster, brandishing it. "STOP RIGHT THERE!"
    She could hear Manja turn in her chair, but Zeika focused her eyes forward into the darkness. The figure kept walking towards her, casually even, and a chuckle rolled out of his mouth as he stepped into the light.
    "A little paranoid today, aren't we, honey?"
    Greasy smile, slicked back silvery hair, and a rolling gray gaze put a familiar face to the voice. Salvatore Morgan. Ombudsman, Representative, and Azure tax-collector for Demesne Five.  
    The first Monday of the month. It's tax day, and you forgot.
    Zeika felt the tension in her muscles melt, but as the adrenaline washed out of her senses, her frown only deepened at the man standing before her. The awkward pitter-patter of unsure feet echoed out from behind him as Zeika's mother skittered out from the back, clutching the thin bathrobe around her body.
    "Zeika, what in Christ's name are you doing?!" Mama's eyes were wide with fear. "Put that thing away!"
    Lips taut, Zeika slowly slid the field knife into the holster at her back. "Excuse me," she muttered. "I didn't know we had...company."  
    She made a face at the frazzled state of her mother's hair, and then she saw them, chalky smudges that lined the skin under Mama's nose. They sloped, forming arrows pointing towards her mother's swollen and pathless gaze.
    "Mama!" Behind them, Manja jumped out of her chair and hobbled over to their mother, arms wide. "You're home!"
    "Hi darling!" Mama took Manja up in her arms, smothering her with kisses. Manja wrapped her arms around Mama's neck, and smiling, she turned to Sal.
    "Hi Mister Morgan!"
    "Hey there, munchkin. How was school today?"
    "It was good! I practiced spelling long words! Seven letters!"
    Sal slipped his hands into his pockets, curious. "Wow, already? You must be the smartest girl in the class!"
    "Yup! Zeeky taught me. Everyone else does the alifbet, but not me! You proud?"
    "I most certainly am, sweetheart. How old are you now?"
    Manja proudly held up four straight fingers. "But my birthday's soon! Zeeky's gonna make me a big fūl-medammis and bread